can't start a fire without a spark
by liviafan1
Summary: If she were with him, he'd tell her everyday. Slide his mouth across her cheek in a soft smile, tug gently on her ear with his teeth as he murmurs it into the shell of her ear - everything she does to him. Everything she makes him feel. Season Two AU that follows 2x23, "Overkill."
1. Chapter 1

**This takes place at the end of 2x23 and goes AU from there.**

**Disclaimer: Well, it's finally happening. I'm graduating college in about nine days.**

* * *

The robbery detective's hands span her waist like they've been there before, like they know the curve of her hip and the slope of her spine. She lifts her head in a smile, the picture of a woman alight with the glow of something new. She flushes a little as she steps away from him, her fingers brushing against her lips as her hair falls into her face, doing little to hide her bright eyes and earth-shattering smile.

He ducks into the break room, hoping to squeak by unnoticed. He's done little to disguise his distaste for the other man, it's true, but he also knows she doesn't take him seriously. A little friendly male competition - the result of too much testosterone. She plays off his jealousy, chalking it up to envy over the fact that he's not her only crime-solving partner anymore.

But if there's one thing he's realized over the last few days, it's that her theory is only the tip of the iceberg. If his feelings are any indication - his heart collapsing into his stomach when _Demming _is around, his fingers clenching against his thigh to keep from slipping his hands into her short waves and caressing her perfect mouth with his lips, his mind shuddering with images of her supple body beneath his, sighing his name as she clings to him -

He's a man wrecked.

A man in _love_.

He hastily flicks his gaze away when she walks past, but it's too late - he's been discovered. He slides his mask into place and spouts a few words, congratulating her on the case and she says something about them making a great team and he smiles, of course he does, but he doesn't know if the 'they' is the two of them or if she's talking about _him_ but then she's walking away without a second thought, a soft good night on her lips, her curls bouncing under the fluorescent lights of the bullpen.

She's started wearing her hair wavy, loose and free at her shoulders, and he wonders if the other man is at the root of it all. If she thinks about him when she gets dressed in the morning, slipping into the purples and reds she's been wearing more and more lately because he likes the way she looks in them - soft, feminine, and so very _sassy_.

If she were with him, he'd tell her everyday. Slide his mouth across her cheek in a soft smile, tug gently on her ear with his teeth as he murmurs it into the shell of her ear - everything she does to him. Everything she makes him feel.

"Beckett's right. Your staring's creepy."

Castle startles, tearing his gaze away from her retreating form to find Esposito giving him a look as he nudges him out of the way to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"I wasn't staring," he says defensively.

Esposito grunts in response before he takes a long sip of his coffee, peering at him from over the lip of his mug.

"What?"

Esposito swallows, lowering his cup. "Just wondering how far you're gonna let Demming push your buttons before you man up and tell Beckett how you really feel."

Castle's mouth opens and closes, words escaping him.

"Subtlety ain't your specialty, bro."

Castle sighs. "I don't wanna ruin what she has with him."

Esposito snorts. "The hell you don't."

"Okay, I _do_, but - " He shakes his head. "She'd never forgive me if I butted in."

_It's none of your business_, she'd said.

"From where I'm sitting, this little dance the two of you are doing around each other - it's not one-sided."

But that would mean -

No. There's no way.

"Just think about it."

Yeah, well, he doesn't think _that_ will be a problem.

* * *

He doesn't sleep at all that night, ends up tossing the covers onto the floor somewhere around three before stumbling into his office in his boxers. He wakes his laptop with the flick of his fingers before opening a new document, willing the words to pour from his fingertips so his mind will power down.

_Dear Kate_ -

Backspace.

_Beckett, I _-

Backspace.

_I'm so_ -

Backspace.

He groans. But maybe -

Yeah, no. A letter is definitely not the way to go. He can already hear the tinkling notes of her laughter. _This is a fantastic joke, Castle. Did you write this?_

But if he -

He'll plan it out, yeah. Write down everything he wants to tell her, everything he's been feeling.

Or, well -

Maybe not _everything_. He'll leave out the part where she's the subject of about 95 percent of his fantasies over the last year and a half.

Gotta save something for later.

He clenches his fingers, cracking his knuckles as he starts again.

_So I've been thinking about_ -

Backspace. Too rehearsed.

_You know, Tom's a great guy, but_ -

Backspace. Too pompous.

_I think I'm in love with you_.

Backspace. God, he's being ridiculous.

He shuts his laptop closed and crawls back into bed, his cowardice looming over him as the sun peeks over the skyline, only to wake uneasily an hour later when his phone shrills loudly next to him.

"Castle," he groans into the phone, flipping the covers over his head as he burrows further into his sheets. He doesn't know why he hasn't considered eternal sleep as a valid option. There's really not enough credit given to simply ignoring the problem til it goes away.

"We got a case, sleepyhead," Beckett's amused tone filters through his ear. "You comin' or should I stop for coffee myself?"

"I'll be there," he says quickly. "Though it wouldn't kill you to bring the coffee for once," he adds through a yawn.

"And upset the status quo? Not a risk I'm willing to take," she jokes, but it's a like a punch in the gut, and now he's at a loss, no witty retort ready to fire back. "Castle? You there?"

He closes his eyes, takes a slow breath. "Yeah," he swallows. "Text me the address and I'll meet you there."

Well. So much for ignoring the problem til it goes away.

* * *

He's fine for most of the day. Maybe a little quieter than normal, based on the looks she's been giving him as she waits for one of his twisted little theories that never comes. But he brings her a coffee, even springs for a bearclaw that's completely worth that extra little twitch of the corner of her lips.

He even takes the time to get them all lunch, though he admits that it's for mostly selfish reasons. He'd spent the better part of the last hour beforehand watching her brush her pen across her mouth, nip at the cap with the edge of her teeth as she perused a case file. Unable to tear his eyes away, he sprang out of his chair, excusing himself to stretch his legs for awhile with the promise to bring back lunch from their favorite Chinese place a few blocks over.

She bit her lip through a smile, shyly asked him if he'd mind picking up a couple of cannolis from that little dessert shop on the corner. He spluttered a yes before he could really think it through and then kicked himself all through mealtime when her lips wrapped around the sweet treat, a delicious little moan reverberating through her.

But it's still fine. It wouldn't be the first time she's teased him, knowingly or not. He's always considered it a part of their repertoire and he'd probably be a little disappointed if she hadn't chosen to play with him every now and again.

He completely loses it later when he comes back from the bathroom to find her with the phone cradled under her ear, her long fingers twirling her hair as she laughs into the mouthpiece, her eyes crinkling with mirth.

And when she finally hands up ten minutes later, it's out of his mouth before he can stop it. "Have dinner with me tonight," he blurts out.

She smiles. Oh, good.

"We just had lunch together, Castle. One meal's not enough for you?" she teases. "Besides, I can't. Tom and I have plans," she adds softly.

"Please? I need to talk to you about something." He hesitates. "It's important."

She stops what she's doing then and it's a long minute of her looking him over, waiting him out to make sure he's serious.

"All right, Castle," she concedes. "If it's important to you."

"It is," he adds quickly. "And it doesn't have to be a big thing. I can whip us up something at the loft."

"You wanna go on ahead? I can finish up here and meet you there in an hour?"

"Sounds good. Any requests?"

She smiles a little. "I'm sure whatever you come up with will be fine."

_Fine?_

Hmm. He'll show her.

* * *

**I have the world's biggest lady boner for Season Two fics, but I promise this will be a lot different than 'In the Thereafter.' Probably a fair deal angstier as well.**

**I have a vague idea of where this is going, but admittedly not much planning has gone into this, so I'm hoping you'll stick with me as I figure it out.**

**As always, I love to hear from you.**

**Liv**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry about the delay on this. Wrapping up school was insanely busy, but now I'm back at McDonald's for the next two months before I make the big move to Los Angeles.**

**July can't come fast enough.**

* * *

Dressed in a frilly apron that tops a pressed blue shirt and black pants, he's surprisingly calm as he floats around the kitchen, humming an old Springsteen tune that filters through the speakers of his stereo. His senses are buzzing, the echo of music dancing in his ears as his fingers prick with anxious energy. He's been writing in his head for the last half an hour, trying to come up with something eloquent to say.

And, well, he's still got _nada_, but at least he's got somewhat of a delicious, killer meal.

Homemade garlic bread in the oven, vegetables laying on the cutting board waiting to be chopped for the salad, and his delectable pasta sauce simmering on top of the stove while the noodles fatten up.

His mother and Alexis are both out for the evening, thank God. He's not sure he'll be able to watch them all engage in polite conversation while he waits to tell her the most important thing he's had to say in the year he's known her. He imagines himself blurting it out over a forkful of pasta, interrupting some side-splitting theater story of his mother's. He sees her bright smile sliding off her face while the two redheads hightail it upstairs, throwing him helpless looks over their shoulders as he stumbles over his words.

In his version, she finds his spluttering adorable, rolling her eyes with a smile before she shuts him up with the warm press of her lips against his.

But he knows those are extreme cases, and the whole scenario will probably fall somewhere in between.

He starts on the last fixings for the salad - cucumbers and grated cheese - when her fist raps against the door.

"Come in," he calls out, his hand manipulating the knife effortlessly. He hears the door close softly and his breath catches in his throat, catching him off guard. The knife falls gently from his hand as he turns around to greet her.

"Hey," she says with a smile, slinging her jacket over the back of one of his chairs. She pushes the sleeves of her shirt up before carding her fingers through her hair to wrap it in an elastic.

She's adorable.

"Hi," he grins back, brushing his hands against his apron.

She lifts an eyebrow, her eyes lazily perusing his body. "Nice wardrobe."

"It's mother's," he explains. "Though I think I've seen her wear it once in the ten years she's had it."

She laughs. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Her eyes trail over the counter, impressed. "Looks like a nice spread."

"It's, uh, almost ready. Would you mind finishing the cukes for the salad?"

She smiles with a nod. "Consider it done."

* * *

They settle down at the table, glasses of water in hand (she declined his offer to ply her with wine) along with steaming plates of pasta. He sets the garlic bread down next to the salad, scanning the meal appreciatively. He did good.

"Smells amazing, Castle. You did good." Her mouth twitches before she reaches for the salad tongs, heaping a generous amount onto her plate.

He smiles his thanks before tearing into a piece of bread. Mmm.

"Where are Martha and Alexis tonight?" she asks before slipping a cucumber into her mouth.

"Alexis is out to dinner with her friends. Celebrating an exam grade she toiled over for weeks."

"She did well, then?"

"Killed it like I knew she would. A-."

"Good for her."

"I think Mother said something about a voice lesson. She usually goes out for a drink afterwards, so I don't expect her home for a couple of hours, anyway."

"You have a piano. Why not let her do her lessons here?"

Castle throws her a look. "Seriously?"

She laughs behind her napkin. "She can't be that bad."

He shakes his head. "Oh, no. She's fine. Some might even say great. But she's very, _very_ loud." He takes a swig of his water. "And I'm not just talking about her wardrobe."

Kate shrugs. "You're lucky to have her, Castle. She's great."

_Oh_ -

But no -

That's not what he meant -

"I didn't mean - "

She waves it off with her hand. "I didn't either. I just meant that she's a fantastic woman and you're really lucky to have her." She turns to him with soft, kind eyes.

"I am," he agrees warmly.

She ducks her head shyly then, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before slipping a bite of pasta between her lips.

They sit in contented silence for a few moments while they enjoy their meals. When his plate is more than halfway finished, he rubs his now sweaty palms against his pants to begin to work up the courage to finally start up a real conversation.

_The Conversation._

But then her phone pings in her pocket, signaling an incoming message. She sets her water glass down and pulls out her phone, thumbing over it with a smile that she tries to hide through the tug of her lip. She chuckles a little as her fingers fly over the keys, typing out a quick response.

She slides it back into her pocket with a flush. "Sorry," she apologizes softly. "Tom wanted to make plans for later."

He nods, swallowing hard. "Right," he says weakly before picking up his fork and shoving another forkful into his mouth.

She cocks her head curiously. "You really don't like him, do you?"

He hesitates. "I don't _not _like him, but - I - " He sighs. "I don't think he's right for you." She stiffens and yeah, that's really _not _what he meant to say at all, but it's out before he even knows how to try to take it back.

She frowns. "Is that why you invited me here tonight? So that I wouldn't have dinner with him?"

He winces. "Not exactly."

She purses her lips. "You asked me over because you said you had something to tell me, Castle. So start talking or I swear to God you'll be wearing that leftover pasta sauce before the night's over."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay." God, this has gotten out of hand really fast. Jesus.

"I'm jealous, Kate."

But not even the use of her first name makes her crack. "I noticed," she snorts. But he must do a shitty job of pretending not be hurt because then she _does _soften, sighing a little. "Look, Castle. I know it must be hard. You're used to being the only partner I've had and I'll be the first to admit that we work really well together. But you can't get jealous every time we bring someone else in to crack a case."

Yeah, he thought that's where she was going with that.

"No, that's not, uh, what I meant." He pauses, swallowing hard. "When I said I was jealous, that's not what I meant, Kate."

Her fingers curl against the table. "I'm listening."

"I like you. A-a lot. More than partners, more than friends, even." He tears a hand through his hair. "I think I might even be in lo-"

Her dark laugh startles him, cutting his words short. "You've got some nerve, you know that?" She shakes her head. "Another man shows any interest in me, romantic or professional, and it drives you crazy. You hate that you don't have my undivided attention all the time, don't you?"

He makes a face. "No. I-I mean, yes, I _guess_, but that has nothing to do with - " He sighs. "That's not what I'm saying."

"So these feelings of yours just happen to creep up when I've started seeing someone? A little convenient, isn't it, Castle?"

Oh, wow. Okay. That's how she wants to play it.

"A little _inconvenient_, actually," he grates. "Watching you parade around with him, kissing him in the precinct - "

Her eyes flash. "You were spying on me?"

"You weren't exactly hiding it," he bites.

She lets out a humorless laugh. "God, you are such an ass." She tosses her napkin onto the table with the shake of her head.

"Why is it so hard for you to take me seriously?"

She gets out of her chair and just stares at him for a second. "Think about what you just said, Castle."

And then she's grabbing her jacket and throwing it over her shoulders, sliding into it furiously. "Thanks for dinner," she says brusquely.

He slides out of his chair. "Kate - "

"I'll see you around." Before he has time to register the ice in her words, she's out the rattling door, leaving him there freezing in the wake of his own disaster.

Wait.

_She'll see him around?_

* * *

**For anyone reading my collab with Emma, we should have something ready for you soon (like within the next few days) now that things have wound down a bit. Appreciate you sticking with us.**

**As always, love to hear from you.**

**Liv **


	3. Chapter 3

**If you hated last chapter, you'll likely be less than thrilled with this one.**

* * *

She cancels on Tom, which pisses her off because it's probably exactly what Castle wants. But she'd be terrible company, edgy all night, and unable to stop thinking about what he said. She'd go straight into problem-solving mode.

Despite what she said, she has no desire to kick Castle out of the precinct. He annoys the shit out of her plenty, but his creative mind has proved invaluable to her and the 12th time and time again. And she likes the companionship, if she's being completely honest with herself.

But she _really, _really likes Tom, too. And she's not going to stop seeing him because her partner's a little insecure.

And that's all it is, because there's no way -

He could have any woman at the snap of his fingers, so why the hell would he want her, anyway?

She's confident in herself, always has been. Prides herself on her skills and her career. Always managed to turn a few heads when she walks into a room.

But it's not about that. Not with _him_, anyway. He's larger than life, a celebrity mystery writer who thrives on intrigue and magic and wonderful -

Everything that's not her.

She spends the night curled up in bed with a glass of iced tea and a worn copy of one of her favorite novels - something written by someone other than _him _for a change.

But after two chapters, she finds herself constantly re-reading page after page, completely unable to focus. So she pulls out Nikki Heat, allows his words to wrap around her and cloak her in comfort, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of head that tells her that if she can't find a way to make everything right -

She might have to choose between her friendship with Castle and her romance with Demming.

* * *

The boys know something's amiss when Castle doesn't show up by ten to the precinct the next morning.

"Yo, Beckett. Where's your boy?" Esposito mumbles through a mouthful of doughnut. Her favorite kind, too - the ones from the little place where Castle used to buy her bearclaws. But she'd woken up this morning without an appetite, still sick with the whole thing, and managed to swallow a few gulps of coffee before shoving a stick of sugarfree gum into her mouth.

She's had her response ready all morning, but it sounds weak coming out of her mouth. "He's taking a break." Lie.

Esposito scoffs. "Taking a _break_? From what?"

She hesitates. "I don't know." Another lie.

"Did something happen last night?"

"I'd rather not get into it right now," she says tightly. Or ever.

He hums suspiciously, but her glare shuts him up and then he's back at his desk, shoving the last of his doughnut into his mouth as he pulls out a case file and gets back to work.

When they catch a tough case and struggle to put together a lead later that day, Ryan brings up the unthinkable. "Maybe we can give Castle a call. See if he has any insight." His delivery is full of innocence, but the look he shares with Esposito tells her it's anything but.

"In case you've both forgotten, we solved homicides long before Castle came around." She rolls her eyes and turns to head for the break room, desperate for another cup of coffee. She's definitely not going home until they find something solid. Til she proves to them - herself - that they don't need him.

They don't.

Esposito corners her when finishes pouring her coffee. "Beckett." His sharp voice startles her and her coffee sloshes out of her cup, scalding the skin of her wrist.

"Jesus, Espo," she hisses, swiping her tongue against her hand. "_What?_"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm - burning myself - "

"I mean _this. _Walking around, acting like everything's normal. But it's killin' you, isn't it? Not having him here."

She sighs, closing her eyes.

"What really happened between you two?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Is it him? Because I swear to God, if it's him, I'll -"

"We got into a fight. Last night at his loft." She tugs at her lip, shaking her head. "We got into a fight and I stormed out."

He lifts his eyebrows. "How bad?"

"Let's just say I wouldn't be surprised if he stayed away until I made the first move."

"So make one."

"It's not that easy."

"Yeah, well. Love never is."

Her eyes dart to his. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs. "Figure it out."

* * *

Instead of figuring it out, or even calling him, she invites Tom over instead. She plies them both with wine and gets him talking about his latest case, watches his whole face light up with the arrest he made before she goes in for the kill.

She lets him get in a question or two about her day before she silences him with a toe-curling kiss, snagging her fingers through the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck as she presses her lithe body into his.

His warm, eager fingers slide just under the hem of her skirt, lighting her skin on fire. She hums into his mouth as her hands fiddle with the buttons of his blue shirt, one that looks remarkably like one she's seen on Castle a handful of times.

_Castle._

She moans as his wet mouth slides down her cheek to nip at her neck. She hikes her skirt up a little further so she can straddle him properly before her fingers finish working at his shirt, sliding it down his strong, broad shoulders.

His lips finds hers again, his palms gentle and pressing at the small of her back. "Sure you wanna do this?" he mumbles against her mouth.

She tugs at his lip. "You don't want to?"

He squeezes her backside and she laughs a little, her teeth scraping his cheek. "Didn't say that." He pulls back a little, brushing her bangs from her face. "You just seemed a little distracted. And as much as I would love to continue this, I don't want you to regret later."

She leans her forehead against his, lets out a little sigh. "Fair enough."

He brushes his mouth against hers. "Anything I can do to help?"

She shakes her head. "Something I have to work out myself."

"Let me know if you change your mind."

She smiles. Sweet guy. "I will."

He watches her with soft eyes as she leans back on his knees, re-buttoning his shirt. She smoothes her hand down his chest when she's finished, bracing her hands on his shoulders. "I should get to bed so I can be in early tomorrow to chase down our lead." Not that she'll actually be sleeping anytime soon.

But he doesn't need to know that.

"Yeah, me too." She nods as she slides off his lap, tugging her skirt back down around her thighs. He slings his jacket over his shoulder and follows her to the door. "Call you tomorrow?"

She leans against the doorframe, a little tired, a little -

Well, confused.

She gives him a small smile. "Sounds great."

When he's gone, she collapses into bed, her body still singing with arousal. But he was right - of course he was, the perfect gentleman - she would've regretted it in the morning.

And as much as she likes Tom, _really _likes him -

She can't lose herself in him to deal with her situation with Castle. She doesn't know _wha_t the solution is exactly, isn't really even sure she understands their problem, but she knows if she lets herself sleep with him before she's ready, well -

Then she's just being unfair to all three of them.

* * *

_As always, love to hear from you._

_Liv_


	4. Chapter 4

_For Jessa._

_So proud of you. #twizzlerstraws4lyfe_

* * *

She avoids thinking about either one of them the next couple of days, choosing instead to throw herself headfirst into work. She stays later than she has to, even on days without an open investigation. She goes home long enough to rest, shower, and refuel before she's back at it again the next day.

She does her best not to flinch under Esposito's knowing gaze, but it _does _unsettle her - the way he seems to know every time she ignores a message or makes up an excuse for why she can't join Tom for dinner. But he keeps his mouth shut, knows what's good for him, maybe even knows that she's _trying _to figure it out, she really is.

She just -

Needs more time. Something she doesn't really have if she has any intention of holding on to either one of them.

But working - it keeps her balanced. Centers her focus when she can't seem to keep her personal life aligned the way she'd like. And without Castle around, she finds herself working that much harder to prove to herself she can do it just as well without him.

But then -

Well, then - ha.

He shows up and screws everything up.

It's three o'clock in the afternoon, on a Friday nonetheless, so she finds herself combing through a few cold case files to keep herself busy all through the weekend. If she's being honest, she's completely exhausted, but her father's away fishing for the weekend and Lanie's traveling upstate for a wedding, so if she wants to stay busy -

Well, work it is.

Her desk is stacked high with manila folders, her hair scraped messily into a bun, the sleeves of her shirt shoved high on her arms. Her stomach rumbles with hunger, but she refuses to take a break until she locates a file from '08, one that haunts her every couple of months. A young girl found stuffed in a suitcase in the trash. No leads. No positive ID.

She usually keeps it in the bottom drawer where she knows she'll always be able to find it, but it's missing.

And she -

Well, she needs it. She needs to find it.

"Beckett." She looks up to find Esposito tearing off a bite of a sub wrapped in foil. "Your boy's here." He tilts his head toward the break room.

_Tom?_

No, but she told him - she'd needed some time -

And why was he in the break room when -

"Hey."

She startles, whips herself around in the opposite direction to a pair of soft blue eyes.

She swallows hard. _Castle._

"Hey," she says weakly, forcing a small smile.

He shifts uncomfortably. "I just stopped by with some lunch. Esposito mentioned that you'd been working long hours lately."

"Oh, did he?" She cranes her neck to shoot the Hispanic detective a glare, but he darts his gaze away and calls after his retreating partner, jogging to catch up with him.

"Is that a problem?" Castle asks her.

"No. Should it be?"

He lifts his eyebrows at her defensive reply, but says nothing.

She sighs. "What are you really doing here, Castle?"

"I just wanted to see how you were," he says softly.

Oh. Well, that's sort of - well, sweet. "I'm fine."

He cocks his head. "You're lying."

She frowns. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." He pauses, lets out a long, slow breath. "Kate - "

She shakes her head. "You can't be here, Castle. I can't - not now, okay?"

"So when?"

_When? _"Tonight," she blurts out. Tonight?

"Promise me."

Uhhh. "Fine. My place, though. Eight."

He nods. "Fine." He opens his mouth to say something else before he closes it, turns around.

"Wait," she says quietly. He stops. "Do you remember where I put Jane Doe's file? From 2008?"

His body shrugs out a sigh before he turns around again. "Esposito had it a few weeks ago when he re-interviewed a witness."

She gives him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Sure."

And then he's gone.

* * *

She stays at the precinct until she needs to go home to meet Castle. She knows that if she sits in her apartment waiting for him, she'll go crazy. Talk herself out of it. Make an excuse.

And if she's honest with herself, that's probably not what she needs right now. She's not getting anywhere trying to sort things out on her own, so maybe -

Maybe she needs to talk to him again. Go into it with a clear mind. Prepared this time.

She gets home with enough time to slide into an old cutoff sweatshirt and a pair of leggings before he knocks on the door.

She swings the door open with her hair tie between her lips as she combs it back again, fixing the flyaways the long day has brought with it.

"Comfy?" he asks by way of greeting.

She finishes wrapping the elastic around her hair. "Is this your polite way of telling me that I should change my clothes?" She steps aside and he follows her into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"No. You look adorable."

She rewards him with a light laugh, rolling her eyes. Yeah, right. "I'm sure." She pads her bare feet to the kitchen and pulls a glass out of the cabinet. "You want a glass of water?"

He shrugs out of his jacket and lays it carefully along the back of her couch. "I'm good. Thanks."

She sips her water and sets it down onto the coffee table, looking at him expectantly.

He lifts his eyebrows. "What?"

"You gonna stand there all night or you gonna sit down?" she asks, settling down onto one end of the couch, feet tucked under her, pillow in her lap.

"Just bracing myself to make a swift exit in case this goes south," he jokes.

Only she's pretty sure he's not joking.

But he sits down on the other side of the couch, anyway.

"I want you to come back, Castle," she starts softly. "You're an asset to the team. The boys miss you." She pauses, lets out a little sigh. "_I _miss you."

"Kate - "

"I never should've implied that I didn't want you in my life. But I - " She shakes her head. "I can't choose between the two of you. I can't give up my relationship with Tom to be your friend, Castle."

"I never asked you to."

She frowns. "But you were so jealous. You - "

"Because I'm in love with you, Kate."

She sucks in a startled breath. But - no. He -

"That's what I was trying to tell you when I asked you over for dinner, but you wouldn't hear me out. It has nothing to do with our partnership at work."

"You're not in love with me, Castle," she says firmly.

He laughs, but there's not much mirth there. "Oh, really? And you know this how?"

"Men always want what they can't have."

"You really think so little of me?"

She sighs, tearing a hand through her hair. "That's not what I meant."

"Then tell me what you meant." He pauses. "For God's sake, Kate. Just once, I'd like you to tell me what the hell you're saying."

"You could have any woman in the world, Castle. What the hell would you want with a New York City homicide detective?"

He looks at her incredulously. "Are you kidding me? You don't take me seriously because you don't believe in your own self-worth?" He slides a little closer to her. "God, don't you know how extraordinary you are?"

"I'm good at my job, Castle. I've made the city a little safer and maybe I've even given someone the closure that I never got. But this person that you think you see? I don't know who that woman is, but I can tell you that she's definitely not me."

He shakes his head. "You're wrong."

"Tom's good for me, Castle. He's nice and sweet and he understands the job better than anyone."

"Is that what you want, Kate? Someone _nice?_" He edges closer to her and her fingers nervously curl at the fringe of the pillow.

"What about love?" He lifts his hand to brush his thumb across her cheek before his fingers race through her hair. "What about chemistry?" His other hand finds hers, sliding his thumb across her palm.

Her breath hitches in her throat. His blue eyes are so very clear and striking now. "Castle - "

"What about passion?"

And then his lips fall onto hers and she doesn't stop him.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm sure none of you are too thrilled with how long this story is taking (or the length of this chapter, for that matter). However, I just moved to LA about a week and a half ago, and I'm still trying to get my bearings with my living situation and my job situation. I don't know how frequent the updates will be or how long the story will be, actually. It's taken a turn I didn't expect, which I'm sure a fair amount of you will have strong opinions about, and I look forward to hearing those. If you have any questions, feel free to PM me or shoot me an ask via my tumblr, twistymaven.**

**Thanks for all your thoughts so far. They've been lovely. :)**

* * *

_She's gonna kill him. _That's the only thought he has before he completely loses control of his mental faculties and kisses her. Jesus Christ. What the hell is he doing?

But then - _oh. _She's palming his cheeks before her warm hands slide up to curl through his hair, her teeth gently nipping at his lip. She sighs into him, something akin to giving up - giving in - and he can't -

It shouldn't be like this.

He lifts her hands away from him, squeezing gently before he lets them drop and slides his mouth away from hers, brushing his lips against her cheek as he goes.

"God, Castle," she breathes, rubbing her hand over her kiss-swollen mouth. She tears a hand through her hair, anxious. "What the hell was that?"

"I wasn't thinking." He pauses, wincing. "Your boyfriend's gonna kill me."

So dead. Though, he can take him - maybe? Oh, wait. Beckett's sparring partner.

Yeah, maybe not so much.

"We're not exclusive, Castle. It's fine. Or - I mean - it's not _fine_, but - "

"I got it, Kate."

"You, uh, certainly got your point across," she says weakly.

He groans. "I should go." He's halfway off the couch when her hand grabs lightly at his wrist, halting his exit.

"Wait. Just for a minute. I - " She hesitates, almost battling something.

"What is it?"

She tugs at her lip. "Tom and I aren't exclusive, Castle," she says softly.

He looks confused, slowly settling back down into his seat. "So you said." She lifts an eyebrow, an amused expression all over her face and he -

Oh.

_What?_

"You wanna date both of us?" he squeaks out.

She rolls her eyes. "You make it sound so dirty. People do it all the time."

Well, yes, but -

"It's called dating, Castle. And if all parties - Tom included - are aware of it, then what's the big deal?"

He opens his mouth to say something - anything, for God's sake - but nothing comes out. She stares back at him unblinkingly before she reaches for a magazine from the coffee table, flipping it open and using her palm to crease the center fold.

"Whenever you're ready," she says and even though her gaze is pointed at the page, he still catches the twitch of her mouth.

"Sex?" he blurts out. Oh, God. That's not -

Well, that's what he meant, but it's _not _what he - she and Tom -

Oh, man.

She cocks her head at him. "I'm fine for now. Thanks." She lets out a little incredulous laugh. "Are you okay?"

He sighs. "I just meant - "

"I know what you meant, Castle. It's not gonna be an issue, all right?"

Oh.

He swallows hard, nodding. "Okay."

She closes the magazine, her thumb fiddling with the corners as she looks at him. "Wanna take the night - think about it? Because if you're gonna be weird about it, then - "

"Uh, no. No being weird. How's tomorrow night?"

She makes a face. "Aren't you coming into the precinct tomorrow?"

He clears his throat. "I meant for our date."

"Oh," she says softly, eyes bright, cheeks pleasantly flushed. "Tomorrow night sounds nice, Castle."

He grins. "Great." He gets off the couch quickly, a little dizzy with excitement. Jesus. He's nearly to the door when he whips back to her. "And Demming - "

"I'll call him later."

He nods, turns away again, hand on the doorknob. "And if he says no?"

He hears her sigh and it's a long moment before she answers. "Let's just cross that bridge when we come to it."

* * *

He barely sleeps at all that night - his dreams flooded with visions of Demming kicking his ass on the mat, Beckett watching from the sidelines.

He wakes at five, shivering in a cold sweat. He slides into a lukewarm shower and spends the next hour and a half writing before he pads into the kitchen to join his mother and Alexis for a light breakfast.

"Morning, Pumpkin. Mother," he greets them warmly, smudging their foreheads with brief kisses.

"Darling, don't take this the wrong way, but you look absolutely terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?"

He shoots her a glare over his shoulder before he pulls down a glass from the cabinet.

"I didn't sleep much," he admits, reaching across the table for the carton of juice.

"Worried about your date with Detective Beckett?" Alexis asks, a gleam sparking through her blue eyes.

He scoffs. "No."

His mother hums her disapproval, doesn't believe him for a second.

"Let's just say I'm worried about the _repercussions _of my date with Detective Beckett and leave it at that."

"Keep worrying yourself like that dear, and you'll be getting gray hairs before I do."

He nearly spits out his drink. "So those boxes of haircolor I find in the trash every month are - "

"Oh, just to keep it shiny, of course. No woman likes a dull mane, Richard."

"Of course not, Mother." He hides a smile behind his glass, sharing a brief look with Alexis, who grins into her bite of toast.

Indeed.

* * *

He stops a few feet away from her desk, admiring the curl of her hair that sweeps the graceful arc of her jaw. She's soft today in a pink button-down shirt, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she pours over the file in front of her. She traces her lips with the cap of her pen, deep in thought.

"You gonna give me my coffee Castle, or you just gonna stand there all day?"

He startles a little then, wills his feet to move toward her and deposit the cup onto her desk.

She gives him a little amused smile before she takes a long sip, flicking her tongue to swipe at the corner of her lips. "Thanks," she says gratefully.

He smiles, settling down into his usual seat with his own cup warming his hands. "Anytime."

She drops her pen and leans back into her chair, pressing the lid of her coffee cup against her lips. "Do you dance, Castle?"

"My dance card is never empty, Beckett," he says smugly. "Why do you ask?"

She leans forward, eyes sparkling. "Our date tonight. I wanna go dancing." She grins through the tug of her teeth at her lip. "So what do you say, Castle? Think you can keep up?"

"Oh, I'll sweep you off those high-heeled feet of yours, Detective. Mark my words."


	6. Author's Note

I _really_ hate author's notes like these, but since I honestly have no idea when the next update will be, I feel the need to put this in here. But this is a rare occurrence and definitely won't be happening again.

I expected the reactions to the last chapter on some level, but there does appear to be some confusion, so let me clear that up.

Beckett is _not_ planning on sleeping with both Castle and Demming. When she said, "It wasn't going to be a problem," she was referring to the fact that she hasn't slept with Demming yet. I know Beckett's character and I know that she likely wouldn't sleep with both of them at the same time.

To those of you calling Beckett a "slut" because she's dating both of them, well…I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting that too, which is quite sad, honestly, since you're basically slut-shaming a woman for dating more than one person when both of them are aware with it. She isn't cheating; she isn't even being promiscuous (which wouldn't matter, except that it might be out of character). So, shame on you.

And yes, Castle is in love with her. But _she _doesn't know what she wants. She hasn't even realized she's in love with him. That in and of itself shows that it's not the same thing has Castle dating around at the end of season 4. In my opinion, Beckett's not a hypocrite here.

It kind of funny to me that you guys have so little faith in me (the ones who have read other things I've written). I understand these characters - I do. And that's not me being arrogant. It's just…I can see all sides of it here.

I'm not going to ask you to stick with this. If you really feel like you can't be onboard, then that's perfectly fine.

And again, if you have legitimate questions, PM me.

Liv


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, your responses to this have certainly been...interesting. To those of you who were kind, either in your support or hesitation, I thank you.**

* * *

Castle's not sure a day has ever passed so slowly in his life. They get a call in the morning about a suspicious suicide, but Lanie puts the kibosh on that after she gets the victim on the table.

Castle bothers the boys for awhile, but even they can only tolerate his blather about aliens and CIA conspiracies for so long. Well, Esposito, anyway. He's pretty sure he was _thisclose _to convincing Ryan that Roswell was a big government cover-up.

He'll have to work on him when Esposito's not around.

It's barely one o'clock when he tells Kate that maybe he should just go home and write while he waits for Alexis to get home from school.

Kate laughs. "That bored, huh?"

He shrugs. "Watching someone do paperwork is a little dull. Even if it is you."

She blushes. "Go home. I'll see you later."

He grins, rising from his chair. "Pick you up at seven."

"Looking forward to it," she says softly, flashing him the briefest of smiles before she picks up her pen again, all studious and adorable.

He tries not to skip to the elevator.

* * *

He manages to finish the outline for his next chapter before Alexis comes home. He convinces her to put her homework off until he leaves for his date, and she joins him for a mid-afternoon snack in the living room, a DVR playlist awaiting them.

Alexis scrolls through the list, a spoon of ice cream shoved in her mouth. She settles on an old Doctor Who rerun they've both seen a hundred times - one of their favorites.

"Excited for your date with Detective Beckett tonight?"

He nods, swallowing his bite of fudge ripple. "Should be fun."

"So I probably shouldn't wait up, huh?"

He nearly chokes. "Alexis."

She laughs, a glint shining in her blue eyes. "Relax, Dad. I'm kidding."

He shoots her a glare. He's taught her way too much.

Alexis pauses, glancing at the television in thought for a moment, swiping her tongue across her lips. "You really like her, don't you?"

He hesitates a little. "Very much, yes."

"And she likes you?"

"That remains to be seen," he prefaces. "But I think she does, yeah."

Alexis raises her eyebrows. "But you don't know for sure?"

"I think - " he starts, hedging carefully. "I think she's scared. But maybe tonight will show her that she doesn't have to be."

"Good luck."

Castle smiles. "Thanks, Pumpkin."

"And make sure you're home by midnight."

He rolls his eyes.

Alexis laughs. "You do have it bad. You've already perfected her eye roll."

"All right, all right. Shut up and eat your ice cream."

"_Dad."_

She throws a pillow at him.

* * *

Alexis lays on his bed, feet up and swinging as she flips through a glossy magazine. He's got a couple of ties tossed over his shoulder to go along with the deep purple shirt buttoned over his chest.

He tilts his head, frowning as he peers in the mirror. "What do we think?"

Alexis looks up from her page. "I think you should ditch the tie and pair it with a jacket." She pauses. "Didn't you tell me you were going dancing?"

"Yeah."

"So get rid of the tie and throw on a blazer that you can take off later."

Castle replaces the ties, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt. "When did you become so fashion-forward?"

Alexis rolls her eyes. "Grams is obsessed with the Style Network."

"Is that why I caught you watching 'What Not to Wear' the other afternoon when your grandmother was out?" He throws her a pointed look over his shoulder.

"So it's rubbed off on me a little," she says sheepishly. "And anyway, you dress better than I do most days, so who should be throwing stones here, Dad?"

He turns around and plants a kiss on her forehead. "I have an excellent comeback for that...later, after I return from my date with Detective Beckett."

"Hey, no enlisting her help for a witty retort."

He scoffs. "I would never."

Alexis laughs. "Have fun, Dad."

* * *

Somewhere between him knocking on the door and her "Hey, Castle," he's lost the ability to form sentences. Or even just speak the barest of words.

God, she looks incredible.

She raises an eyebrow, laughing. "You okay?"

He nods slowly. "Yeah," he says dumbly. He steps over the threshold and she closes the door behind him.

"You sure?"

He swallows hard. "Y-you look incredible."

"Oh," she says softly, her eyes bright as a flush creeps up her neck. She smooths her hands over her deep red dress that flares just above the knee. "Thanks."

"Sorry, I didn't meant to embarrass-"

She shakes her head. "No." She smiles. "It's sweet."

He grins. "Shall we?"

He reaches for her peacoat that she's laid out on the couch, opens it up for her to slip her hands into it.

"A gentleman. Who knew?" she teases, the glint bright in her eyes.

"You will, before the night's over," he throws back.

She laughs, fingers gliding over buttons. "You _are _on your A game tonight, aren't you."

"Gotta keep you on your toes."

"I think you're better at that than you realize," she says softly. He lets out a little stunned breath, clenches his fingers tight against his thigh to keep from sweeping his thumb across her jaw and pressing a kiss to her pink mouth.

She clears her throat, stepping to the door. "So where to?"

"Uh, there's this great little jazz club downtown that serves a full menu. Unless you had some place special in mind?"

She opens the door and he steps into the hallway, leaning against the wall as she locks the door behind them. "That sounds great. I'd love to try someplace new."

He grins. "Awesome."

She chuckles at his choice of words as they make their way to the elevator.

"And Castle?"

"Yeah?"

Her eyes skim the length of his body appreciatively, settling on his face with the raise of an eyebrow. "You don't look so bad yourself."

_Oh._

Leave him here to die.

* * *

They're only through a few sips of wine and a bite of bread before he asks her to dance. "So you ready to put the moves on me or what?"

She laughs, her cheeks pleasantly flushed from her glass of red wine. "We haven't even eaten yet."

He shrugs. "No better way to pass the time, right?" He shrugs off his blazer and wraps it around the back of his chair before he goes to work on the cuffs of his shirt.

"Can't argue with logic like that," she admits.

"So you admit I can be logical from time to time?"

She rolls her eyes. "Blue moons are more common, Castle."

"I didn't say it happened _often_." He pushes his chair back, his eyes intent on hers as he sidles over to her side of the table and offers her his hand.

She swallows, quite visibly, and he wonders if she's nervous, what she was expecting when she'd told him she wanted to go dancing -

If she thought he'd back out.

"What's that look for, Beckett? I _know _you can dance, remember?"

"I know." She slips her warm hand in his, setting her wine glass down. She follows him to the floor, the thump of her pulse steady under his fingers.

When he turns around again and slides his fingers through hers, he finds her breathless - a little startled even - before she lifts her hand to rest against his shoulder.

"What is it, Kate?"

Her eyes slip closed briefly. "It's nothing."

"_Kate."_

Her eyes snap to his. "It's just." She forces a small smile. "Just a little more intimate than I was expecting," she admits. Castle's eyes flit to the cozy couples dancing nearby, hushed laughs exchanged, mouths sparking across soft lips in bright candlelight.

"It makes you nervous?"

She hesitates, searching his gaze. He can tell that she doesn't want to hurt his feelings. "Yes."

He smoothes his thumb across the back of her hand. "I'm not trying to pressure you," he says gently.

She smiles. "I know."

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"No." She slides her hand further into his grasp, nudging him to make a step.

"Just two people dancing, Kate. That's it. Just try to forget that I'm completely head over heels in love with - "

"_Castle_," she slaps his shoulder with an incredulous laugh, shaking her head.

He smirks. "Sorry."


End file.
